


Mr. Fell Attempts to Buy a Book from Mr. Bennet

by AMarguerite



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 07:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19662640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMarguerite/pseuds/AMarguerite
Summary: Mrs. Bennet attempts to husband hunt. Aziraphale attempts to buy a book. No one gets what they want.





	Mr. Fell Attempts to Buy a Book from Mr. Bennet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goddamnshinyrock (micaceous)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/micaceous/gifts).



“Mr. Bennet! There is a gentleman there talking with our Mary!”

“Is there?” Mr. Bennet observed this scene with mild disinterest.

A fair gentleman in a pale frockcoat had paused by Mary. Mr. Bennet could not consider that talking; indeed, the gentleman appeared to be more interested in the book than in Mary. After a second look, Mr. Bennet bit back a comment that the gentleman would  _ only  _ be interested in Mary’s book. It had been some years since Oxford, but Mr. Bennet had run into a fair few... lovers of Greek, as it were ... while he had been a student there, and this gentleman would have fit perfectly into that circle. 

“That girl does not know her own interests,” Mrs. Bennet said, clucking her tongue.

Mr. Bennet observed, “I would rather our daughter not accost gentlemen in St. James’s Park. It smacks of Rochester.”

“Of who?”

“The Earl of Rochester.”

“If it is good enough for an Earl it is good enough for our Mary.”

Mr. Bennet was about to enlighten his wife as to the scandalous nature of the Earl of Rochester’s licentious liaisons in St. James’s Park but decided that discretion was the better part of valor. It had been a trying day already. He had not wished to go to London. He certainly hadn’t wished to be out walking in St. James’s Park in his wife’s idea of a military parade, all to display their connection to Mr. Darcy, walking ahead as far as politely allowable, and to display what charms of their unmarried daughters could be seen behind bonnet and cloak. They were now all paused, as Mr. Darcy was introducing Lizzy to some friend of his in a curricle, and Kitty was not-so-discreetly attempting to get gravel out of her shoe. Mary, with unaccustomed wisdom, had sat down to read on a bench— and now the fair gentleman was hovering politely and unobtrusively by her, feeding some ducks in the pond and glancing back at the book over his shoulder.

Mr. Darcy concluded his business and moved back to them with the grave solemnity of a chief mourner at a funeral. Mr. Bennet wondered yet again why his Lizzy— lively, playful Lizzy, with her delight in the ridiculous, and her constant activity— had chosen this man to love. But she seemed perfectly contented to walk beside him. 

“Lizzy, look at that gentleman by Mary!”

Lizzy did so and came to the same conclusions Mr. Bennet had. “He seems harmless, Mama-- I think he is waiting for someone, the way he keeps looking about.”

“Do you know that gentleman, Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Bennet asked in a stage whisper.

Darcy glanced over. “Slightly. He is Mr. Fell, a bookseller, of sorts. Each time I have attempted to visit, the shop was not yet open— or if it was open, Mr. Fell was not in a position to sell any of the volumes in his store. A pity; though the collection appears to be mostly religious in nature, I saw he had a quarto of  _ Hamlet _ I have long been wishing to add to Pemberley’s collection.”

Mrs. Bennet’s interest evaporated. A  _ merchant _ ! Not for  _ her  _ daughter. Mary was a gentleman’s daughter! She would marry a gentleman.

Mr. Bennet’s increased. A quarto of  _ Hamlet _ ! He approached the bench. “Mary, your mother wants you— why did you bring my first edition of Ussher with you? It’s a presentation copy Ussher signed for one of your ancestors. It ought to have remained in my library, back in Longbourn.”

Mary looked flustered, which Mr. Bennet took to mean that Mary had borrowed the book because it was old and in Latin, but her understanding of Latin was not up to the task of actually reading any of the words. 

The fair gentleman’s head snapped up. He did indeed appear to be a bookseller, for he immediately looked back down at  _ Annales veteris testamenti, a prima mundi origine deducti  _ with yet keener interest. “I beg your pardon, my dear sir, but I couldn’t help but notice that you mentioned a  _ signed  _ volume of Ussher— I am a bookseller. I have a card I believe….” He had breadcrumbs in one hand, but with the other patted his coat and waistcoat pockets in a way Mr. Benent might characterize as ‘fussy.’ “Ah, here it is.”

Mr. Bennet took it and read, ‘A.Z. Fell and Co, Purveyor of Books to the Gentry, 19 Greek Street, Soho, London.’ ‘In Soho, eh?’ thought Mr. Bennet. ‘I wonder what he has in his back room. [1]’

“If you have any interest in selling that volume….”

“Not at present.”

“Oh but my dear sir,” said Mr. Fell, coaxingly, while discreetly ridding himself of remaining breadcrumbs. “I would make you a very fair offer on a first edition  _ Annales veteris _ . I have been looking for just such a work since the 1666–or so it feels!” He gave a light laugh. “I had a signed copy myself but I lost it in… a fire.” [2]

“For as it is written, the fire testeth the quality of each man’s work,” Mary said solemnly.

Like all of Mary’s quotations, it made no real sense except on the most superficial level. 

But Mr. Fell was not yet acquainted with Mary’s particular method of conversation and said, doubtfully, “Er… yes, in the particular case in question I believe it was not so much a trial of Bishop Ussher’s ideas, but a bakery down the road catching fire. Which is not to say, of course, that his work is  _ entirely  _ accurate. I believe his calculations were a little off— by a quarter of an hour.”

Mr. Bennet felt amused— though not enough to offer to sell. “Was it indeed?”

A very dashing gentleman in the most fashionable mourning attire Mr. Bennet had ever seen came sauntering over to observe their trio. He seemed amused, or at least as much as one could tell from behind a pair of smoked lenses. 

Mr. Fell glanced at the newcomer. 

“Let’s go, Mary.” Mr. Bennet held out his hand, and Mary dutifully handed him the book. Mr. Bennet tucked it under his arm.

Mr. Fell looked torn, but turned back to Mr. Bennet. “ _ Do _ think it over, Mr…?”

Mr. Bennet smiled politely. “I will, Mr. Fell.” 

“That,” said the gentleman in black as Mr. Bennet and Mary rejoined their group, “is what we in the business call ‘a lie.’” 

“It is not,” said Mr. Fell. “Mr. Bennet will reconsider. You’ll see.”

Mr. Bennet thought, ‘that’s odd; I never gave that man my name,’ but at the next moment it slid out of his head, in a sudden and almost beatific rush of love as he approached his family. This was what life was about, spending time with his beloved daughters— and his lovely wife, of course— and shouldn’t he consider selling his library in order to spend more time with them? And to have money to take them out to plays and get them… what was it that girls liked? Ribbon? Lots of lovely ribbon. How lovely it would be never being isolated and alone in his library and forever surrounded by his wife and daughters—

Mr. Bennet clutched his book to his chest, overcome with horror.

There was a faint hissing noise from somewhere, like a snake laughing. “Leave the temptation to the professionals, angel.”

Mr. Bennet suppressed a shudder. He desperately wanted to be back in his book room, alone. He hated London. 

  
  
  


[1] Bibles. Mr. Fell kept a collection of misprinted Bibles. Mr. Bennet, had he ever actually managed to visit the store when it was open, would have been amused and delighted by this discovery. 

[2] The Great Fire of London, as a matter of fact. Aziraphale had miracled the book back into existence, but he’d  _ known  _ it had been burnt and that quite ruined his enjoyment of it. 


End file.
